It was a humid autumn night on the Far East side of London. Trees creaked and swayed, depositing their umber leaves upon the damp pavement below, undoubtedly to rot and form a muddy soup which many would have to trudge through in the following weeks, allowing of course that a sudden frost wouldn't overcome the city, leaving the roads veritable ice rinks. One of these unlucky civilians was Maggie Dufresne who at the moment was unsure whether the moisture trapped beneath her delicately painted toes and encased in two hundred dollar black suede pumps, was indeed the thick descending fog or instead the many cock tail drinks she had spilled down her bare legs. Owing to the sticky nature of the mystery substance, Maggie was only as sure that it was the alcohol she had not quite consumed as her hazy mind would allow.
The trek back to her apartment wasn't all that pleasant. Her state of inebriation was the most obvious cause of discomfort seeing as she no longer found pleasure in the weightless feeling in the limbs, the disconnect from the reality she had grown to disdain. No, it was not fun anymore, it wasn't fun to be the drunken girl dancing on tables or meeting random guys on the dance floor. Of course she would never go home with these men, or anywhere for that matter. She hadn't gotten that intimate with someone since Chris, which was of course understandable, or at least she told herself it was. But this didn't include sloppy kisses or haphazard groping, two activities she frequented.
Lost in the cloudy musings of her disjointed evening, Maggie was soon startled to find herself leaning against the door jam of her apartment, sliding her key chain between ten clumsy fingers, marveling at how exactly she was going to achieve this feat of coordination. A wave of nausea passed through her core at the thought of having to summon her sleeping motherly neighbor to open the door for her, yet again. With much loathing, she opened the gleaming locket that dangled cold and certain between her breasts and extracted a forgotten looking hawthorn wand.
"Alohamora." Maggie whispered, torn between satisfaction and disgust when she heard the resulting hollow click. Hastily stowing her wand back in the locket, she pushed open the door. Groping at the wall to her right for the light switch she almost fell over twice, but thanks to the leaden umbrella stand that rose to her knees, she remained upright and functioning. Her hand soon found purchase when it landed upon the cracked light switch which was immediately flicked into life. The person she saw sitting at her small kitchen table earned a yelp of surprise and the loss of all support from her already buckling knees. Maggie shoved her fist in her mouth, to muffle her cry of shock for the benefit of her neighbors only.
"Hello Magdolin, are you quite alright?" Inquired Professor Dumbledore, looking rather unconcerned from behind his half moon spectacles
"It's Maggie not Magdolin," She hissed, peeling off her sticky stilettos before attempting to stand up.
"I prefer it over the horrid biblical name my father insisted I have and I'm perfectly fine."
Finally managing to haul herself up, thanks to the nearby wall and keeping her eyes firmly shut, Maggie squared her shoulders defiantly and opened her eyes, unconsciously swaying on the spot.
"I am sorry for my grave error," Dumbledore said, the corners of his mouth twitching slightly.
"Especially when the proposition I came to make is one that can only be agreed upon if both parties have rather favorable views of each other. I have come here to request you leaving your muggle home and come under my protection."
Maggie snorted.
"Like hell I will. You know you've got some nerve coming in here completely uninvited and-"
"Now is that anyway to treat an old friend? Please come sit, I can only imagine how long you've been on your feet." With a wave of his veined hand, a plush chair appeared in front of her, angled slightly in a most appealing way. Maggie paused for a moment, sifting through his most recent comment for any disparaging qualities or innuendos. Unable to find anything particularly malicious, she seated herself, wary but flooded with relief at being able to rest her aching legs.
As soon as her bottom rested on the soft cushion, all traces of humor vanished from Albus's lined face and were instead replaced by a grim expression. Maggie suddenly felt as though she'd stepped into a lion's den with a steak tied around her neck, completely exposed and vulnerable to whatever was to come.
"It has taken me a very long time to find you Maggie. It would appear as though you wish to remain hidden." Maggie winced under the disappointment in his tone, the way she was forced back to her childhood, sitting across from a disapproving father. Both men had had hopes for her, both of whom she'd let down.
"Who are you hiding from Maggie?"
"I think you know exactly what I'm avoiding. I also wouldn't call it hiding per say, it's more like-"
"You abandoned your post, you abandoned your friends and comrades."
"I had to!" She cried, gripping the sides of her chair, willing herself not to cry.
"No you didn't. What happened with Chris was a tragedy, the entire wizarding community mourned such a prolific loss but you have a duty to tend to! You cannot continue running from a role you swore to fill. It is not fair for you to decide the fate of these men and women." Maggie peered into the eyes of the man sitting across from her, tears blurring her vision.
"I-I loved him so- so much." She said thickly, "It's not about the others, it never was. I was only in the order because he was. You have no idea what it was like those first few months!"
"Maggie we have all experienced loss, some takes more a toll than others, but you can't let the dead control your life."
"Experiencing loss?!" She cried shrilly, no longer concerned about the people sleeping on the other side of the walls surrounding her.
"It wasn't just an experience; it was truly the loss of everything! Do you think I had anywhere to go, anywhere to live after they killed him?"
"You had the order, you've always had the order, we will provide to any of our members in need."
"No," She said slowly, shaking her head and sucking in deep shallow breaths.
"I couldn't stay with them. Everyone knew. Everyone looked at me with such pity. It was in the back of everyone's minds; I was and still am an example of how not to turn out! I'm a poster child for the pain death causes. And I don't want to be a model for anything! I want to be able to deal with it on my own terms, to miss him in my own way, not be strong for people who don't know me, who don't care." Years of pent up anger and sadness was flooding from her body, through the form of tears and words.
"Maggie you must see that this is no life to live, exiling yourself from the world you grew up in, only using magic in desperate situations, even feeling ashamed for the magic you do use. But most importantly is the drinking, you have to stop."
Dumbledore's tone was now one of consoling, he even reached across the table to lift her chin slightly. Hot tears spilled onto his outstretched hand.
"I'm a mess." She blubbered miserably, hastily wiping away any remaining tears with the heel of her palm.
"Maggie this is very important. The Potter's are in danger. At the moment it isn't exactly grave but I have a feeling, and most of the time my feelings are correct, that they will be facing a grave threat in the near future. You were one of the best duelers the order or even the death eaters has ever seen; we need you now more than ever. I hope you realize that it is either joining the Order or being forced to join the Death eaters, if they do not kill you first. You are a valuable commodity, one that will not be left untapped for long. You need my protection Magdolin."
"It's Maggie." She said, her voice slightly clearer and higher. Dumbledore nodded slightly.
"I must go now, it's getting late and I have a meeting I must be well rested for. Please consider my offer, I will leave a school owl with you in case you decide to contact me."
Dumbledore stood up and made his way to her door.
"Be aware that Acorn will not stay and wait forever, she will leave in an allotted amount of time and the deal will be forgotten. Choose wisely Maggie, please."
The loud crack that signaled his disapparition rang throughout the cramped apartment; echoing and reverberating off panes of glass and her modest furniture. More miserable than she had been in years, Maggie sat at the table, head hung in exhaustion and pain.
Maggie awoke with a start, the sound that had pulled her from the dream she was having ended abruptly, she swiveled her head around, till she spotted the source of the sound. A large tawny owl sat perched upon her desk, a large golden eye appraising her with annoyance as it attempted to tuck its large head beneath a gleaming wing.
"God dammit Acorn!" She snarled, head drooping in her hands.
She ran a palm against her damp forehead, trying to coax the memory out of hiding. She could feel it lurking in the foregrounds of her mind. She could almost taste his mouth on hers; almost feel him beneath her hands. It was all so almost! The edges of his face were now blurred, no longer crisp and sharp, no longer seared across the back of her eyelids. Maggie laid her head back down on the warm spot her breath had created on the wooden table. Too tired to make the walk to her room, she had resigned to spending the night with her face pressed against her kitchen table. Anger began to bubble through her, why couldn't he just leave her alone? Every time she made progress, he grabbed a hold of her ankle, dragging her back into the darkness, forcing her to climb to the surface and have the whole cycle repeat itself. It had been months since she'd had such a cruel dream, she thought she'd made so much progress. There was only one way out of this rut.
"Acorn come here." She called in a low, tired voice.
"I've got a letter for you to deliver girl."
